What Remains
by therealesther
Summary: Sasuke's training at night, but that's not the whole story. Hints of HinaJira...JUST KIDDING! haha, please enjoy, and ask questions, you'll need to!


AN: I really don't know what drove me to write this. I must be mad. I kind of reached a block in my Shikamaru Plus Glasses story, so this came out. Started off as a drabble, but somewhere along the line, a vague story emerged.

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto, but I think I could have written a better story for that awful OVA episode set in Waterfall Village…

**What Remains**

The body moved with grace and power, a unique blend alloyed to form movements of breath-taking speed and beauty.

Twisting, weaving, and dodging the attacks of unseen assailants. The padded tree stump was now battered and bruised, but bore the barrage in stoic silence.

The moon shone palely. A soft bluish light lay over the training grounds, interrupted by patches of utter blackness thrown by the great trees that sat brooding over the open area.

White stars, shining. Cold, beautiful, distant. So many, shining like the sun's scattered reflection on rippling dark water, so many, yet never filling the emptiness of the night sky. The sky which stretched endlessly upwards, reaching higher than sight, further than thought.

The erratic frenzy of thuds slowed, then ceased. With steps that dragged from exhaustion, the figure moved away to stand in the centre of the grounds. Sweat trickled down the flat planes of a bare chest. A chest hard and pale as ivory, that rose and fell rapidly as soft, quick breaths barely broke the silence.

A fair face tilted upwards, obsidian eyes sought the stars. Shining thick hair, dark as the night sky, slipped down over slim, squared shoulders.

In a fluid movement, the figure dropped to the ground. Lay back. Stretched out, feeling the soft prickle of grass blades on sweat-dampened skin.

It was much easier to see the stars like this. He could lie here until the stars died, until he died. Lie here, with heated skin cooling rapidly and eyes growing steadily emptier, and a cold sick feeling still lying deep inside, coiled like a snake in the pit of his stomach.

A cold sickness that came with too much knowledge. The knowledge of what he had done in order to get here in the first place; or rather, what he had _almost_ done. And even though he hadn't done it, even though he hadn't been able to do it three years ago, tomorrow was going change that.

This morning he had been informed by Kabuto. Tomorrow this body would be taken, possessed, inhabited, while he himself would be shunted to a corner of his consciousness, locked securely away, a helpless onlooker to the destruction of himself and all those useless pieces of Leaf headband-wearing trash.

_All_ those pieces of trash.

Every last one; that was the plan, and according to Kabuto, the master's plans were inexorable and immutable. Inexorable as the coming dawn, that would see a new mind, new thoughts, new commands for his flawless body to carry out with all the strength and grace it had acquired over the last three years.

At least, that _was_ the plan as it had been told to him a little over twelve hours ago.

Amusement twisted the corners of shapely lips upwards, forming a smirk totally at odds with the serene beauty of the face it marred.

For as a wise man once said, too much knowledge is a dangerous thing. Twelve hours had been a sufficient time to assassinate a former Sannin in a weakened state due to the deterioration of a host body and then destroy the Sound Village whose numbers had already been depleted by a recent allied attack from the Hidden Leaf and Sand.

Twelve hours was plenty for a youth who had been hailed as a genius since entering the academy and had successfully reached the chuunin main matches on the first time, despite being teamed with an unremarkable kunoichi and the loudest, blondest, most hyperactive…

The lips tightened, all traces of amusement gone. The cold nausea in his stomach returned and intensified.

The dawn was inexorable in its coming. So too was the strength of that mad impulse to return to that village full of headband-wearing trash.

He had taken power and tasted revenge. Now, nothing remained. Neither the snake who had given the power, nor the pleasure he had tasted in the destruction of _that_ man.

He opened his eyes to darkness, the stars veiled by clouds, the moon a faint blur in the east. Wind rustled in the grass and made a ghostly music of whispers in the tree branches.

_It's been dark for so long._

Was there really nothing remaining?

No, there was something, there was someone. Or there had been, three years ago. And because he hadn't done it, hadn't been able to take that final step and kill the only person who had looked at him and really seen _him_; himself and not a fanciful image from daydreams or storybooks, because he hadn't killed the idiot, the idiot should still be there.

That was only logical. The idiot would still be there, as loud and hyperactive as ever.

Unless someone else had been able to do what he had not.

At that thought the coldness returned and he understood why he had destroyed the snake and its village, why he had not relinquished control of an already ruined existence and stepped back to see what, if anything, someone else could make of it.

For only by returning and seeing for himself, only by confirming for himself that the blonde idiot was still there and that he did not have to kill him, not now or ever, could he banish the icy fear that threatened to engulf him.

In a single fluid movement, he was on his feet. He retrieved his shirt from the grass and slipped it over his head, flipping his hair out from under the collar. In another instant he was skimming lightly through the treetops, feet barely brushing the rough bark.

Chakra surged and he shot forward at inhuman speed. The trees became a blur around him. The boy was in a hurry, following the drifting leaves in his memory.

_It's been dark for so long. _

And now, Uchiha Sasuke wanted to the see the sun.

AN: what do you think? Not _too_ painful to read I hope…I haven't written that many naruto fanfics, and I never thought I'd ever write one from sasuke's POV. He's definitely not my favourite character. What do you reckon? Flames are welcome; it'll scare me off writing sasuke ever again…or else it might just encourage me to try again and again until I get him right!


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